


Prompt #44

by GlitterBombLove



Series: Prompts - 90 Challenge [44]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Fantasy, Flash Fic, Prompt Fic, Short, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:01:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29541369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterBombLove/pseuds/GlitterBombLove
Summary: Prompt #44February 18, 2021Genre: Fantasy / UrbanPrompt Idea: GlowSource: Original
Series: Prompts - 90 Challenge [44]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2052597





	Prompt #44

I've seen people glow for as long as I can remember. No, I'm not talking about the shimmery makeup you see women dust on their face these days -- although it does make me wonder who came up with the idea and why it's so popular. Maybe there are other people who know The Glow is a real thing or there's some deep craving in everyone to see a version of what I've been seeing all my life. 

When I was little, I thought everyone could saw it too. I remember pointing to people and telling my grandmother. "Look she's so bright!" or "he's twinkling!" 

"Stop that kind of talk," my grandmother said, always snapping at me. My grandmother suffered no foolishness. She was a meat-packing worker, tired from working endless double shifts and overwhelmed when her drug-addict daughter ran off after dumping three young children in her care. Grandma was too tired to indulge imaginary friends or other childhood nonsense. There were too many bills to pay, meals to cook and housework to do in running a full household so late in life. Grandma said bluntly she must not have done a very good job raising a family, because she was having to do it all over again. 

I learned keep my mouth shut. In my little child's brain, I figured out pointing at strangers was rude and bright talk was plain creepy. It didn't take me long to figure out no one else saw what I did.

What I saw was this light playing beneath people's skin. It was everywhere. Most people glowed but the brightness always varied. Babies glowed so bright - it was almost phosphorescent. When I was little, I always giggled when I saw them because they reminded me of little light bulbs under blanket covers.

Imagine if you lit someone on the inside with a candle and the light beamed out and through their skin pores. The light was soft, warm and pleasing. Once or twice I've seen people walking with hazy trail following them -- like little tendrils of cigarette smoke. I never realized what it was until I was about seven years old. 

It was late evening and my grandmother and I rode a bus downtown to cash a check my mother had sent us. Checks were spotty at best and they tended to bounce. When the check came in the mail, we high-tailed to the check cashing center with crossed fingers. The rush hour bus commute was packed and it was getting dark outside. When the bus stopped, my grandmother and I rose from our seats to get off. Other people filed out in the aisle and we got separated.

Outside the bus people stood and waited to board the bus. Rain dripped down and everyone's expression were as soggy as their coats. An impatient passenger pushed his way into the bus before everyone could disembark. He brushed roughly against me and knocked me down as I exited. I was thrown off balance and missed the last step. I cried out and tumbled down to the sidewalk. I must have scraped my hands when I braced my fall because it stung raw. All I saw was wet pavement. 

Suddenlly the puddles shimmered. Brightness flashed on the concrete and the ground mirrored a bright light. A strong hand enveloped mine and drew me up. My hand felt warm and soothed. I saw an older gentleman and behind him were two enormous translucent wings - ornate and sparkling like crystal. He was stooped and leaned on a cane, but the wings were shining and graceful. They fluttered, stroked and enclosed me for a moment and then spanned behind him.

His face was so bright I could barely make out his kindly weathered features from beneath his fedora hat. He cast a light so luminous and intense, his rays shone and spotlighted the bus and beamed on people's faces. Raindrops fell and sparkled like diamonds.

He asked me if I was alright and gave me a concerned look. I nodded in response. I was dumbstruck and tongue-tied. So many emotions flooded into my little child's heart. I felt goodness, love and awe all washed over me in an overwhelming force. All I could do was start crying like a baby.

By now my grandmother had shoved her way off the bus and rushed to my side. A crowd surrounded us. Even the bus driver had climbed down to check on his passenger. No one seemed to notice the wings and when they looked me over and decided I was alright, people going their own way. My grandma thanked the elderly man. 

He nodded and smiled, hobbling away. It was raining hard, and his wings hovered over some people like umbrellas. People turned and exchanged smiles to each other for no reason. Expressions looked lighter, happier and more relaxed. People stood aside, allowing the old man to step onto the bus before them. When the final passenger got on, the bus door closed and trundled down the dark street. The bus seemed lit by a thousand cameras on flash mode. 

I sniffed and wiped my nose. I felt a rough, calloused hand stroke my head gently.

"It's okay to cry," Grandma said softly. "He was something special, huh?"


End file.
